


epiphany

by trashijima (berryvonne)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9801155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryvonne/pseuds/trashijima
Summary: For the longest time, Tobio thought it was all about volleyball. Until one day it wasn't anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eleasofia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleasofia/gifts).



_**epiphany:**  a moment of sudden and great revelation or realisation._

 

**_IIX_ **

The first time they met, Tobio was eight.

Well, ‘met’ was stretching it a bit too far. It was more of a spying feat on Tobio’s behalf as he hid behind the tree, watching Hajime say something to the other boy as the latter practiced hitting a ball. Despite their mothers stopping to chat almost every day in the same supermarket—dragging their sons along of course—Tobio had never really talked to Hajime, nor did he dare, as the older boy scared him a little. Not that he’d ever admit it. The other boy, however, was unfamiliar to Tobio, though by the looks of it he and Hajime had known each other for ages.

Any former attraction of the swing set was forgotten as Tobio’s eyes stayed glued to the boy and the ball. The blue-yellow-white bouncing against his hands, squinted eyes from both sun and concentration, bangs clinging to his forehead from sweat. “I toss and you spike,” the boy was yelling to Hajime, who looked as if he would rather be doing anything else, but obliged anyway, backing to a spot.

 _Too high,_ Tobio’s instinct told him as the ball went sailing, seconds too long in the sky as Hajime jumped, swung his arm aimlessly, and got conked on the head.

“Iwa-chan!” The brown-haired boy pouted. “I didn’t know you would start running _before_ I toss!”

“You said I was too slow last time,” Hajime grumbled.

“That’s different.” Following the ball, the boy came dangerously close to Tobio’s hiding place. “That was a short toss.”

“How’m I supposed to know?”

As they bickered Tobio slowly backed off, careful not to make a noise. His feet were numb from staying motionless so long, but his heart was a different story. The scene piqued his interest more than any bug-catching his friends had dragged him to, than playing tag or card games or chess or any other activity the teachers had tried to get him involved in.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was as excited as this. Neither could his mother, apparently, whose eyes widened slightly when Tobio came home panting, announcing he wanted to try out _volleyball_ as he lined his shoes up against the wall. She only smiled and listened to her son talk about Hajime and the other boy, making a mental note to thank Mrs. Iwaizumi the next time they meet.

 

**_X_ **

“They’re mine?” Tobio’s eyes were shining as he rammed his legs through the knee pads at once.

“I thought they would come in handy as you’re always scraping your knees,” His mother replied nonchalantly, as if today wasn’t Tobio’s tenth birthday, as if he hadn’t been eyeing the pads in the sports store every time they passed it. “Still, be careful when you practice.”

Practice. Tobio liked practice—he liked everything about volleyball to be fair—but he loved doing drills, loved practicing serves and learning new techniques. Some of the kids groaned about the no-chat rule during practice, but being quiet left a lot more space for concentrating.

And then there were the older students. The coach typically separated the fifth and six graders from the rest, but the school had only one gym and Tobio couldn’t help but watch them play whenever he got the chance. On his very first day to practice he had noticed—who else—Iwaizumi-san (manners were irksome once you reach double digits) lining up for his drills as well. And of course, by his side, Oikawa-san. He’d heard the name in passing and remembered to ask his mother about it, although the knowledge was useless as they hadn’t even spoken.

Oikawa-san still wore the same expression as Tobio remembered it, if not intensified—focused. Determined. Like the ball was the only thing that mattered in a split second, and Tobio liked that idea. He wished he had a chance to even talk to the older boy—how did he train? Which school would he be going to? What was his given name? Questions like that.

He’d overheard the coach talking to his mother once, who had come to pick him up from the sessions. That Tobio was ready, in skill and in potential, to move up to the older group. “We usually wait until they’re old enough—but he’s advancing noticeably faster than the rest. It’s up to him, really.”

Tobio had shook his head before his mother even finished the question, when they were walking home together that day. No, he didn’t want to join the older kids just yet. Yes, he wanted to be better, but being the best among the middle graders was awesome. His mother had laughed at the answer and asked no more.

“Tobio?” She was asking now. “Are you listening? Try not to hurt yourself, alright?”

He tapped on the black padding, refocusing on his mother again. “Yes, of course. Thanks.”

The pads already look like they belonged to him forever and he felt—dunno, one step closer to entering a volleyball powerhouse.

 

**_XII_ **

Kitagawa Daiichi was a volleyball powerhouse. He learned that from Iwaizumi, whom he’d finally plucked up the courage to talk to. Training was a whole new level—powerhouse standards. And then there was the one name that always came up when he and Iwaizumi-san chatted, even when it wasn’t necessarily about volleyball.

“—Oikawa said he’s gonna be the best setter in our school.” Iwaizumi-san rolled his eyes, picking at his shoe.

Tobio was quiet for a moment. Of course he knew Oikawa wanted to be a setter—hadn’t he been so the first time Tobio set eyes on him?

He’d seen Oikawa play. He’d researched on setters that play on national level, watched their videos and though Oikawa was far ahead of him in skill, something tugged at Tobio’s mind. That he could be like that. That he could get in Kitagawa Daiichi and become the _best setter—_

He liked the way that word rolled off his tongue. Best.

Tobio must have looked a little faraway, because Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I mean, I think he’ll make it. But I hope none of our senpais hear that.”

 

_**XIIV** _

“Hear what?”

“You’re chosen!” Kindaichi whooped. “Remember the coach saying he wanted to pick one first year for the match this time? Like, new tactics and all that?”

Tobio remembered. He stared at his slightly worn-out sneakers against the wooden floor for answers to the unsettling feeling. Wasn’t this what he always wanted—to be _better,_ to be the _best?_

Even Kunimi smiled at the news and patted him on the shoulder as they huddled around the coach. But Tobio wasn’t stupid. He was a setter—had trained to be a setter, had been applauded for his setting potential. If the coach wanted him on the team, there was no other possibility as to the role he would be playing.

_“—Oikawa said he’s gonna be the best setter in our school.”_

One glance at the third years was all he needed. The coldest expression he’d ever seen on Oikawa’s face. For once he wasn’t talking to Iwaizumi, but staring right back at Tobio. The younger boy’s heart sank. Of course he would be mad. Oikawa had, after all, been setter for _every inter-school match_ since Tobio entered, not to mention as most skillful, calm, determined—

 _I’m not good enough._ Tobio close his eyes, and inhaled. _Not like him—I’ll go apologize—_

“Kageyama!” The coach barked.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to play in the match this time. Your first inter-school one, so don’t mess it up. We’ll be trying out a new rotation this time. I know it’s been a while since we’ve done this, but now with new blood on our team, it’s time for us to evolve. Understood?”

A chorus of ‘osu’s echoed around the gym. Tobio’s erratic heartbeat was nothing compared to Oikawa’s dark mood throughout the drills, though it was unnoticeable by his steady as usual performance.

“Oikawa-san,” Tobio approached warily after practice was over. “I, uh…” The older boy walked straight past him to the corner where they placed their gym and school bags, fishing out a towel. “Oikawa-san,” He tried again, inching closer to the person he’d adored and admired from the very start—and by the looks of it, whom could care less about acknowledging Tobio.

It wasn’t until Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa in the ribs did the latter turn to regard Tobio. The same cool look.

A moment of silence passed. “I—I’m sorry,” Tobio blurted out, his nails digging into his palms. “I didn’t mean to—to end up as a setter on the match, because I’m not as good as you are and you deserve it more than I—”

“Stop.” Oikawa said, his eyes never straying away from Tobio’s.

“But—”

Tobio was silent as the other boy stepped forward—one, two—until they were inches apart, and he was ready, even hoping, for any criticism to be thrown at him, how his setting wasn’t even close to replacing Oikawa, how he still lacked the calculating side of a setter, how he should be _practicing_ to prove himself better rather than standing here, pathetic—

“ _Stop,_ alright? Why does it matter to you? You’re good. You’re chosen.” The words were anything but congratulatory, stinging like a slap to the face. “I’m struggling to keep a position I’ve had two more years to train for. I don’t _deserve_ it more.” Turning away from Tobio once again, Oikawa remained motionless for a moment. “The only ones who will remain on the court are the strong. And if you’re stronger than me—well. That’s that, isn’t it?”

 

**_XIV_ **

“No, it isn’t.” Tobio shook his head, almost defiantly. “Say the blocker will be able to be _here_ right when you spike. Which could obviously happen, if they guess-block. With your height and jump it’s not really easy, so the only way is to spike _here_ instead.” He stepped to the side.

“That’s not even possible.” Akatsu narrowed his eyes.

Tobio sighed. “I will be perfecting my tosses as much as I can to throw their blocking off, but I can only do so much. If you could immediately run _here—_ ”

“Forget it, Kageyama.” Ryouta shrugged. “It’s not going to happen— _unless_ any one of us could move with the speed of light.”

 _We have to become strong,_ Tobio thought, almost bitterly. _I have to become strong. I’m trying. I’m trying my best. Why aren’t they?_

 

**_XVI_ **

“Maybe because you know so many of them,” Sugawara offered, a careful glance at Tobio’s direction, who pretended not to notice. “And you feel bad for beating them.”

The taller boy nodded, trying to keep down the turmoil of feelings. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

The truth was he _did_ know. Sugawara let the sensitive topic go and talked aimlessly about other things—what sort of training they would need against Shiratorizawa, what sort of routine they’ll be adapting from now on, et cetera. At one point he talked about the weather, and Tobio was grateful for the company.

It felt—no other words— _goddamn fucking awesome_ that they won. When the whistle signaled the end of the game Tobio had felt like he wasn’t breathing until then. Some sort of afterglow clung to them as they made their way to the bus, head buzzing with excitement though their bodies were about to give way any moment. If there was one thing Tobio was sure of, amongst all the emotions that were threatening to surface, it was that he absolutely felt _good_ for beating Seijou.

Beating Oikawa, however…

The achievement didn’t bring Tobio any of the release, pride and fulfillment he had expected. In fact, it hardly felt like something he wanted at all. But hadn’t he been yearning that even before he got in Kitagawa Daiichi? To follow in Oikawa’s footsteps before he’d even known his full name, to be as good as his senior, and ultimately better than him? Wasn’t that part of the reason he practiced so hard, to somehow _prove_ to the person that had raised and crushed so many hopes of his that he was _worthy,_ worthy as an opponent if not a teammate?

The gymnasium soon disappeared behind them as the bus drove them home, replaced by the blurry road view. Tobio rubbed at his eyes gingerly. This wasn’t what winning was supposed to feel like—delivering the most beautiful jump serve only to have it smack dead right outside the court line. Or leaving the best dish for the last only to find it tasted nothing like before.

He’d put too much personal sentiment into whatever volleyball was to him, whenever Oikawa was involved. And it seemed like Oikawa was _always_ involved. The summer day he discovered volleyball. His first practice session ever in elementary. Getting in Kitagawa Daiichi. Being chosen over Oikawa. Even when they no longer were on the same team he tried to catch up on Oikawa’s strides. Today he overtook them.

_“And if you’re stronger than me—well. That’s that, isn’t it?”_

It damn wasn’t, Tobio thought. The comment had come off as sarcastic, but now he saw what Oikawa had acknowledged from years back. That Tobio was stronger, both then and now, whether there was a net between them or not. But something else—something else had driven him on, still, to make it his goal to impress Oikawa, to garner his attention that he, Tobio, could be a somebody in Oikawa’s eyes.

Tobio was only glad that all the other teammates were fast asleep and positively snoring as he pressed his face to the cool window. “I just want to be seen—” His voice caught mid-whisper.

-

“Please.”

“Not now.”

“It’s important. _Please._ ”

“I look, smell, and feel like shit.”

“So do I.”

“Tobio-chan, I just cried _the entire ride home._ ”

“So did I.”

Silence hung in the air before the door swung open, revealing Oikawa still in his Seijou uniform. “Well, you weren’t lying,” He said after a moment.

“Oikawa-san, I’m sorry.”

The older boy looked to the sky, exasperated— _really? And he said important?_ “If this is like the time you apologized for taking my place in junior high—”

Tobio dropped the gaze, suddenly feeling less brave then he was when he decided to come over and more red-button-abort-mission kind of panicking.

He pressed on nonetheless. “It’s not about volleyball. For once.”

“Oh, well—thought that was going to be the topic. Like, you just beat me and everything. Continue.” Oikawa reached inside the house and grabbed some tissue, blowing his nose noisily on one and handing the rest to Tobio. “You look like you need some. What’s it about?”

“Us,” Tobio replied, looking Oikawa straight in the eye and watched as melancholy replaced the initial disbelief, though his mouth remained upturned, silently egging Tobio on.

“I wanted to surpass you.” The younger boy stated wearily, abandoning all attempts to be tactful. “As setters. That was my goal, even if I didn’t realize it. That was my petty goal because you were the best setter I’ve seen in action. But now it’s happened. My team has beaten yours. And that’s supposed to make me feel better. But it doesn’t.”

“Tobio—” Oikawa started.

“But you’ve never…I just—I wish you could’ve—could’ve been proud or something,” _Oh fuck, fuck dignity, fuck shame—_ “I wished for it so bad. I never meant to make this into—into some weird competition. I just—it was my only way of getting your attention. To win you. But now that’s happened and I still feel as shitty as I did when you turned me down in junior high. So no, it’s not about volleyball. It’s about me worshipping the hell out of you and wishing you could acknowledge some of that effort, and I’m sorry.” Unable to maintain eye contact any longer, Tobio shifted his glance to the side, very much aware of his blurry sight and more so the deep blush creeping up his neck. “I’m sorry for—for causing this much damage, just because I wanted to be _seen,_ by the person who already has such a large influence on who and what I am.”

They stood in more awkward silence. _I’ve botched it. He was in a shit mood and I went and pulled this off. I—_

More tissue was handed to him. “You really do need some,” Tobio looked up and saw Oikawa with the weirdest expression on his face.

“Tobio-chan.”

“Yes.”

“Did you just confess to me?”

“What—” Tobio felt his face on fire and he opened his mouth, only to have nothing come out of it. “I did not— _that was not—_ ” Yet as he sputtered he knew that was it, that explained everything, didn’t it?

The older boy snickered. “You did and it was. How long have you—shit, you probably don’t know, do you? Has it been months? Years?”

“What does it matter—”

Oikawa was positively howling with laughter. “Oh god, you’re hopeless— _you cried about me your entire ride home—”_

“Shut up—” Tobio was at a loss, not knowing whether he should laugh or cry, watching the entire scene unfold before his eyes—

Then Oikawa kissed him.

Like, grabbed his face and pulled him close and _fucking made out with him on Oikawa’s front porch._

Tobio could go into malfunction, but then Oikawa placed both his cool, comforting hands on Tobio’s neck, their foreheads touching. “Hey. Listen—” And Tobio did, closing his eyes, concentrating on Oikawa’s voice, his minty breath Tobio had just tasted seconds ago.

“First of all, you were obviously right that I was the best setter you’ve seen in action.”

Tobio sighed.

“What? That needed to be established. But listen, okay? You’re going to achieve so much more. I just have experience up my sleeve but you’re brilliant and accurate and horribly good at setting. The rate you improved back in junior high—I knew. I knew you’d catch up. And, well,” Tobio felt a thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m proud. I’m more than proud. I’m _amazed._ You’re going up against Shiratorizawa next, and I know who I’ll be cheering for. Also, yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Tobio’s eyes flew open at that. “What.”

“I haven’t forgotten that it was a very sweet, teary confession.” Oikawa smiled innocently, planting a kiss on Tobio’s cheek. “Should’ve recorded that, hmm?”

Tobio narrowed his eyes. “You’re just doing this because you pity me.”

“What, the recording? Don’t worry, there will be plenty of opportunities for blackmail.” At Tobio’s unrelenting glare he sighed dramatically. “Do I look like a charity business? Imagine us. Best setter and future best setter. No, shush, no more questions. Now that’s out of the way, I want to take a shower and you’re welcome to join, my lovely kouhai.”

 

_**XIX**  
_

“Stop calling me that.” Tobio grumbled, but only half-heartedly, pulling the covers over his head.

“Honeyyyyyy,” Already sitting up in bed, Tooru laughed slightly, reaching his hand under to tickle his boyfriend. “Come on. I’ll treat you to free breakfast, the boss wouldn’t mind.”

Tobio rolled over— _no,_ definitely not tempted by the food—right into Tooru’s lap. “Can’t we have it delivered?” He said into the warm, soft alien pyjamas.

“No, you lazy asshole.” Was the brisk answer. Tobio groaned and turned to look at Tooru, now on his phone. His eyelashes were so long they seemed unreal, and his free hand was in Tobio’s hair, ruffling it absent-mindedly.

Tobio sighed. He was so rarely home—not to mention often out of the country—that times like these were so precious, to the point that it felt like a waste no matter how he spent them. And when he does get to come back Tooru is always waiting. In gymnasiums with embarrassing, sappy boards to cheer Tobio on, at airports waiting with the other fans, behind stages while he’s at the front doing meet-and-greets.

Too many of his teammates have been left by their significant others—occasionally face to face during what little free time they have, sometimes during phone calls or video chats and the rest of the team has to pretend they haven’t heard a thing, mostly through text. And so Tobio was eternally grateful for that one summer day a decade ago—

“Earth to Tobio,” Tooru was saying, a mischievous smile around his lips.

“What.”

“You _do_ worship the hell out of me, don’t you?”

Tobio rolled his eyes. “Tooru, it’s literally been years.”

“Yeah, I’m never going to be over it. You look cute when you’re spacing out,” His boyfriend winked, gesturing the phone.

“Did you—” Tobio made a grab for it, but sadly failed. “You _bastard,_ if you dare post any pictures—”

Sticking his tongue out, Tooru swatted Tobio off his lap, getting out of the bed. “No, stupid, I’m just going to stick some stills on my economic textbooks and drool for hours. And that was a video.”

“You’re the worst.” _The best._

Tooru winked at him before starting to change his clothes. “Blackmail material, remember?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the hq!! valentine's exchange. First time doing anything oikage but I hope I did them justice.


End file.
